


Wind Up

by boomerbird10



Series: Tiva/Tivali Drabbles [14]
Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/M, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:34:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25640671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boomerbird10/pseuds/boomerbird10
Summary: After an international move and six beers at a party on the beach, Tony has a chance meeting with someone... interesting. {alternate meeting AU challenge fic}
Relationships: Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Series: Tiva/Tivali Drabbles [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1749793
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Wind Up

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a 1k-words-or-less AU fic prompt challenge: 'We kissed at a party and never thought we'd see each other again.' (I swear it was only 999 words in my word doc!)

It's an awful idea to drink and stay up late the night before starting a new job.

That's common sense, really, and Tony knows it _damn_ well. He really needs to make a good impression, and the things he's heard about these people… well, he knows they won't be easy to impress. In fact, he's sure that he'll have to fight just to keep up straight from the get-go.

Why, then, did he accept a random invitation to join in with a beach party that he wandered past after dinner?

Whatever compelled him to say yes, he's now sitting by a bonfire, nursing his sixth beer and feeling very pleasantly confused. This is a new job in a new country where he doesn't know anyone—he doesn't even speak the language. Hopefully the Hebrew that he hears tomorrow at his new office will sound less distractingly musical than what he's hearing now does.

Hopefully, that's just the beer.

Silhouetted by bonfire light, someone—a woman—steps in front of Tony and says something that sounds mirthful.

"I'm sorry?"

The woman laughs, surprised. "An American?" she asks, switching to English.

"Good guess," Tony praises, a slight self-deprecating smile on his lips. "I take it you're not?"

The woman gestures with her beer to the skyline behind them. "Tel Aviv is my home."

It takes a beat for Tony to catch her words, because he's distracted by the pretty way the firelight dances off her dark, curly hair as she speaks. He can't see her face, but he's sure it _has_ to be equally beautiful.

"Hello? Are you still there, American?" The woman sounds deeply amused.

"Huh? Sorry—yes. I was just thinking. About your hair."

The woman throws her head back, laughing exuberantly; maybe she's had a few beers already, too. "My hair?" she parrots.

"Yep."

Still chuckling, the woman turns to sit gracefully on the sand next to Tony. For the first time, he can see her features—he had been right. She's gorgeous, just like most of the women he's seen since arriving in Israel on Saturday.

He thinks he's going to like it here.

"How does an American wine up at Chava Eshel's party?"

"...I'm drinking _beer_."

"What?"

"You said _wine_ up—oh." Tony laughs, suddenly understanding; the woman frowns.

"What?" she demands, her humor evaporating abruptly when she recognizes that she's being made fun of. " _What_ is so funny?"

"I think you meant 'wind up.'"

Her expression clears, and she gives Tony a teasingly haughty look. "It is hard to remember silly idioms when you speak as many languages as I do, yes?"

"How many is that?"

"More than _you_ can speak."

Tony laughs, and after a moment, the woman's holier-than-thou expression melts into laughter, too. "I'm sure you're right," Tony agrees, grinning. "I'm Tony, by the way."

"Ziva."

"Nice to meet you."

"Likewise... but you did not answer my question."

"Which question, again?"

"Why are you here?"

"This party 'here', Tel Aviv 'here', or Israel 'here'?"

Ziva wrinkles her nose at the intentionally obtuse question. "Are all Americans this dense, or is it only you?"

"Hey!" Tony protests, the alcohol in his system lending itself to instant familiarity and leading him to playfully shove her shoulder like she's an old friend. "For your _information_ , I just sort of… happened across the party while walking down the beach. As for Tel Aviv and Israel in general… I live here now."

"You must have moved recently, because you do not seem to understand Hebrew at all."

"Oh, yeah, that reminds me—what did you say at first?"

"I said 'you do not say much, do you?' Now I see why you were quiet, however. Is this _aliyah_ for you?"

"Hm?"

"Jewish immigration to Israel."

"Oh… no. I'm not Jewish. I'm here for a new job."

"Oh? What position?"

"That's… a complicated question," Tony decides wryly. "What about you? What do you do for work?"

"That is classified." Ziva's neutral tone and expression make Tony wonder if she's joking or not.

Something tells him not. "Alright, then."

Ziva laughs, making Tony second guess his assumption again. "Do you know many people here?"

Tony shakes his head. "You'd be the first."

"May I also be first to welcome you, then."

Tony starts to reply, but something calculating in Ziva's expression tells him that she's not quite finished speaking. "What?" he finally prompts.

Her expression loses any indecision, choice apparently made, and she grins almost predatorily.

" _What_?" Tony demands again.

"I was only thinking that you should start your life in Israel with something… memorable."

Tony blinks, surprised by her forwardness. "Do you mean…"

The way she slowly drags her eyes up and down his frame leave little doubt as to _exactly_ what she means. "Oh. _Oh_."

"If you want. It is not like we will see one another after tonight, anyway."

In answer, Tony leans in and kisses her; he may be tipsy and slow, but he's not stupid.

He finds it absurdly attractive when Ziva takes charge after a few very pleasant minutes, tugging him by the hand across the sand toward his own hotel room.

* * *

"Everyone, please welcome your newest team member: this is Tony DiNozzo, our liaison officer from the American agency of NCIS. Special Agent DiNozzo, you will eventually work with everyone here, but for now, you only need to know one person… Your training officer—the one under whom you will work for at least your first six months—is Ziva David."

Did he say…

A woman steps forward when her name is called—catching sight of Tony's face, she looks just as surprised as he feels.

It's the same Ziva that he became… ah, _very_ familiar with last night. What are the _chances_!?

His mind flashes to eight hours prior; he can still taste beer on his tongue and feel soft skin under his hands. Suddenly, he wants _very_ badly to feel her skin again…

This promises to be a long six months.


End file.
